The old school graphic flashes, before the audience is allowed a black and white view of a hidden camera in the upper corner of the room. It allows The Road Dogg, Jesse James to be seen. Based on his positioning, we can see that he's adorned in a football-like jersey, where on the back it reads "JAMES" above a proud number "69", tucked into his normal tights and boots. He's got his hands on his hips, his head down, and seems to be talking to someone. Who? We don't know quite yet.

Road DoggMan... man, what the hell happened? I did everything to come back. I went on that Rogaine regimen to get my braids back. I went down to Orlando to train with Haitch and the boys. I stopped smoking for a whole week to pass the initial drug test.

This really seems to have hurt him. He stops talking. He runs his hand through his braids which have barely anything to do with Rogaine and everything to do with producing money from WWE, fantastic weave extensions, and an expensive salon. When talks again, his voice is lighter, his pain quite clearly shown.

Road DoggAnd... and then what? ... For what? I ain't won once. Not-a-once. I done lost my smile. I was an Intercontinental Champion. Hardcore Champ before 24/7. A six time, World Wrestling Entertainiment, tag team champion of the woo.....

His catchphrase trails off into the pit of his depression. He can't even finish it. There's a sniffle. Then sounds of sobbing.

???Man, are you cryin'?

The voice is thick with a Texas accent. Road Dogg attempts to respond between his weeping.

Road DoggUhafuchhk. A wah for whaaaaaaaa?

His cry becomes louder, and finally the person playing Dr. Phil is seen. Unsurprisingly surprisingly, it is none other than the "Badd Ass" Billy Gunn. He's wearing Road Dogg's newest RPW brand T-shirt, tucked into his jeans which are tucked into his cowboy boots. His hair is tied behind his head in a ponytail. He walks up to the sobbing Jesse James, his cries getting gradually louder. Suddenly, with unmitigated force, Mr. Ass smacks the Road Dogg clear across his face. Jesse hunches over in reaction, and then looks up at his best friend of twenty years with bewilderment.

Mr. AssNow, boy, I know you ain't sitting here cryin' like a bitch.

Mr. Ass puts his hands on his hips and begins to scold his partner like a father.

Mr. AssI've been watching the shows. I've seen it all. You actin' a fool, trying to pretend you wasn't hurt, by the being the loser you've become. This isn't how we rolled back in the day. And I think that's part of your problem.

He pats Road Dogg on his back.

Mr. AssC'mon. Let's hype like it's the old days. Get the baby oil. Take off your shirt.

Road Dogg complies, going over to find baby oil. Billy Gunn strips of his shirt, and after the delivering the baby oil, Road Dogg does too. From there, in an uncomfortably methodical way, the legendary tag team begins to sensually rub themselves in Johnson & Johnson. Once it's done, Mr. Ass points to a mirror on the wall.

Mr. AssYou know what's next, c'mon now.

The Road Dogg and Badd Ass begin to slowly crotch chop into the mirror. Jesse James' seems to be much lazier, much sadder. Truly a sad sight to see; a man too trapped in depression to even crotch chop. To even crotch chop.

Mr. AssStop playing, Jesse. I know you, man. You and Shawn were always the best at telling other men to perform fellatio by way of a swift motion around your crotch, either creating the shape of a U or of an X with your arms. Like ol' times. I know you've got it in you. Let it come out. Alright?

This time Jesse listens. He shakes his head, then takes a good look in the mirror. He spreads his legs to get into the proper form, and stares himself in the eyes.

Road DoggYou got this, Roadie. You got this and you got that psychotic son of a bitch tonight.

The crotch chopping begins. And this time, Road Dogg's are executed with perfection. He even alternates between the U and the X. Oh joy! Praise be! Has he found his will yet again? The crotch chopping continues, and soon enough, both men are smiling. They begin crotch chopping each other, as their bodies glisten in the light.

All seems to be going just right. But then, there's a kick and the locker room door flies open.

Thorn stands at the doorway, a dementedly angry expression on his face as he glares at James. He holds a scotch egg in his white knuckled hand, and lifts it to his face before he takes a gigantic bite out of it. Once he's swallowed, he moves over to his opponent, and gives a big, toothy grin.

ThornI see you brought moral support tonight James! Well, let me tell you now, it will not help! You've had your chance to show us all what you're made of, what you bring to RPW, and you have James! We know what your role is! You're the old timer, the nostalgia act... the jobber!

James looks at Thorn angrily.

ThornI've proven it time and time again! I threw you out of the Extreme Championship battle royal, I ruined your chances of becoming number one contender to the very same title, and I've pinned you not once! But twice! Tonight, it'll be strike 3! And you know what happens after strike 3 don't you James...

Thorn lifts up the scotch egg in his hand, grinning at it, before he crushes it to pieces in his hand, the egg and meaty slop running through his fingers at to the floor. Once done, he hurtles the remains up into the air, where it splatters on the ceiling and sticks.

ThornYou are the loser of RPW. That's your role here. Tonight, I'm gonna make you accept it.

Thorn turns and walks away, leaving Mr. Ass and Jesse James to watch him go.

The crotch chopping has come to an end. Road Dogg puts his hands on hips and turns around, walking away just a bit. Billy watches Thorn leave, but once he's done, turns to Jesse James. He pats his back, but James, this time, doesn't seem to be back in a depressed state.

Road DoggY'know something, Billy? So far, ain't a thing he said was wrong. But it's time for some shit to change. His confidence, is one of 'em. Interrupting our crotch chop session? Like, c'mon, dude, the nerve. Boundaries.

He looks up at Billy.

Road DoggFor tonight, I've got only two words for him.

He holds two fingers up proudly.

Road DoggYour winner.

He points to himself. He grabs himself and walks out of the locker room. Billy grins, slings his shirt on his shoulder and walks out, excitedly rubbing his hands together.